


Hitched for the Holidays

by MsArachnid



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas Themed, M/M, a kid isnt treated well at all, vague allusions to black mirror tech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsArachnid/pseuds/MsArachnid
Summary: It's Christmas, and the Junkers celebrate in their own way. Which means stealing, destruction of property, psychological trauma, and a getaway.





	Hitched for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andjazcv](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=andjazcv).



> Written for the roadratexchange on tumblr, for @andjazcv
> 
> Just as a warning, they do tie up a kid and shove him in a closet, and then destroy half the house while Junkrat whines about the ~true meaning of Christmas~ and whatever he picked up from somewhere.

It’d snowed a few days ago and the snow was still there. The road and sidewalks were wet with it melting, but not icy. The neighborhood was quiet, since it was the middle of the day in the middle of the week in a nondescript town in North America. The house they’d found to hide out in was a quaint little thing, decorated for Christmas.

Junkrat was _fucking cold_. He wore a sweater and actual _pants_ , huddled up in blankets on the couch and still felt like a human ice cube. He shouted to Roadhog, who was in the kitchen doing god knows what. “Tell me again why I can’t start a fire?”

Roadhog came in the room holding two mugs and a plate of cookies. “Someone could see if we lit a fire.”

“Right, right,” Junkrat said, not really paying attention. He’d ask the same question when he finished the snack. For now, the hot chocolate in his mug would warm him up, alongside the giant portable furnace that was Roadhog. He always made hot chocolate the best way, even if it was from those instant packs. He used real milk instead of water, and didn’t water it down by adding too much. He’d even managed to find tiny marshmallows to add.

He cuddled into Roadhog, who put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. He sat there, listening to Roadhog breathing, a radio playing Christmas music somewhere in the house, wrapped in a blanket.

It was nice.

Quiet.

 _Boring_.

Junkrat jumped up off the couch. Hog didn’t move. “We need to do something. Something fun.”

“We’re lying low,” Roadhog reminded him, as he steadily inhaled the plate of cookies.

“ _Fuck_ that, I’m bored. Let’s do some fireworks.”

Roadhog shrugged and gently put the empty plate down. Then he flipped the coffee table into the tree.

Junkrat gave a cheer. “Just like that! Let’s trash this place!”

Really, it was an awful idea. They needed to lay low for a few days, and had only found this place that morning. Both cars were gone and the house was quiet - a perfect place to hide. They’d had just long enough to take a nap, though, and Junkrat was getting antsy.

Oh well.

Junkrat set up charges along the fireplace, right alongside the stockings. Roadhog lifted a porcelain Santa above his head, ready to let it sail through the front window, when a kid walked in. They froze.

“What are you _doing_?”

Junkrat and Roadhog shared a look. Roadhog dropped the Santa. It fell on it’s back, shattering. It’s jolly face and rosy cheeks stared up at him accusingly. He stepped on it and ground it into the carpet.

“Y’see, we were just, um, making sure your entry is a bit more Santa-friendly! You can’t expect a guy the size of my friend to fit down this! So -”

“Bullshit,” the kid said, “I’m calling the cops.”

Roadhog charged. The kid darted away, but Roadhog was faster. He caught the kid and gagged it with his hand. Junkrat ambled over and shoved his face in the kid’s space. “Where are your parents?”

Roadhog didn’t remove his hand so the kid could speak. It didn’t matter where the parents were, they had to leave now anyway. He stared at Junkrat until he got the picture. 

Junkrat got out the rope and started tying, complaining all the while. “ _You_ said there was nobody home! What’s this then, the family pet? Can’t even do a proper sweep, you’re lucky I keep you around.”

Roadhog ignored Junkrat’s continued mumbling in favor of ransacking the house for anything that looked worth something and easy to carry. All he found was some jewelry and and a few high-tech electronics, but that reminded him.

He made his way back to Junkrat, who was trying to shove the kid into a closet. Roadhog gently pushed him out of the way to look over the kid’s head. Finding what he was looking for, he pinched a small sensor off of the kid’s forehead and showed it to Junkrat before crushing it between his fingers. 

“Good call!” Junkrat praised, “Nice thinking. Shame we couldn’t’ve kept it, woulda fetched a nice price, but who knows what kind of _incriminating details_ it might have held.”

There should have been none, unless the kid had watched them for longer than their cuddle session on the couch. But just seeing them was enough, and Hog didn’t need some snotty kid calling the cops before they were ready to leave. 

Their immediate problem dealt with, Roadhog went back to destroying the furniture as Junkrat prepared the house for fireworks. Roadhog pauses, watching Rat intently. He always loved seeing Junkrat so into his work, how he concentrated so well on this one thing. But now his stare held a question: would the explosion hurt the kid?

After a few seconds Junkrat felt Hog’s gaze, and with a few more (and a head tilt in the general direction of the closet holding their hostage) he figured out the unasked question. “He’ll be fine! Don’t worry, this’ll only take out these walls, he’ll be safe where he is.” He shook his head as he went back to work. “Didn’t expect you to be such a softie! If only you cared about me like that.”

Roadhog rolled his eyes. He picked up another decorative statue to throw out the offending front window. It sailed gracefully through the window, the glass shards sparkling in the sun outside. The hardy snowman slid across the yard before shattering when it hit the mailbox. Roadhog could still see it’s cheeky winking face from where he stood indoors. He sent one of the fire pokers out after it like a javelin. It landed perfectly in the snowman’s open eye, before the whole thing collapsed into pieces from the final blow. Roadhog huffed in triumph. 

Junkrat watched, finished. “You really had something against that guy, didn’t’cha? I don’t blame you, he looked too smug to be made of snow.” He held up his detonator. “Ready to go?”

Roadhog looked around. He grabbed their bag and shrugged. It was good enough. He and Junkrat exited the house and got on the bike. They were barely out of the driveway before Junkrat started the show, half of the house collapsing in a cloud of dust. He hung out the back of the sidecar, watching closely. “Serves those fuckers right,” he said, barely audible over the sound of the bike. “Wouldn’t know the true meaning of Christmas if it bit them on the ass.”

Roadhog looked over. Junkrat turned back around and looked up at him. “You know! Family, time together, all that mushy nonsense.”

There was no evidence the house they destroyed _didn’t_ subscribe to all that, but it was too late now to fight it. Roadhog wondered where Rat had gotten the idea that the holidays needed to be spent with family. It sure as hell wasn’t Junkertown. Maybe he’d seen one too many Christmas Specials, while watching TV late at night while Hog slept. 

Before Roadhog could tell him not to (as if it would really stop him), Junkrat climbed across the sidecar onto Hog, paying no attention to the asphalt speeding along below. “I wouldn’t want to spend it anywhere other than here,” he shouted into Roadhog’s ear. Roadhog pushed him back into his sidecar before he killed himself. Junkrat let him. “I know you feel the same!”

He did.


End file.
